


Marching Away from the Stream

by Ruunkur



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: But what is fanfic if it's not just a tad bit self indulgent?, It's a tad bit self indulgent, M/M, no beta we die like Glenn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:13:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22616944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruunkur/pseuds/Ruunkur
Summary: Five years after the end of the war, and he still hears their voices.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	Marching Away from the Stream

**Author's Note:**

> A first attempt at writing Fire Emblem fanfic.
> 
> Written to the song "Willow Tree March" by Paper Kites.

In the late nights, with the sun firmly hidden behind the horizon and the moon shining brightly above, he could think about things.

Things that he wouldn’t think of when the sun shone above them, marking the streets in a glow that felt all too wrong.

It was all too clear, in the nights, where the path ended.

He had known, from the moment he stepped foot in the monastery, years ago. He had known when he saw the professor’s face, lined with worry. The confusion as he was caught up on the events and 

He had known, from the moment the first fight started, the path would be soaked in blood.

Still, in the light, he couldn’t face those memories. Couldn’t face his reflection. The haggard appearance, the years where he was nothing, less than nothing.

In the moonlight, he was haunted.

Haunted by the voices of the dead, softened through the years.

Haunted by the faces of those he had known and laid to rest.

He curled his hand into a fist, watching through the semi-darkness.

Five years ago, he had shoved his lance through Edelgard’s chest, even as she threw his dagger into his shoulder. A little prick of pain, compared to the dam that built up inside him.

He turned his head as he heard the soft hum of someone just beyond his door. He was known to keep strange hours, especially on nights like these. On nights where the anniversary ticked closer and closer, until the clock would reset.

Now, he turns, walking towards his door. When he opens it, he finds the man he often dreamed off standing behind it, back stiff, face a hard mask.

“Felix.”

The sound of the name breaks the silence, breaks the hold of the howling dead. Just for the briefest of moments, the figure blinks, acknowledging him before he stepped into the room, shutting the door.

“You are up late, are you not?” Felix asked, peeling off his layers. His hair is blown across his face, his mouth pulling into a frown.

The man tilted his head, lifting a hand to drag it through his hair. “The hour grows closer to dawn. Have you been riding all night to be here?”

Felix merely shrugs, stepping around Dimitri to stroke the fire. Few words were often exchanged, just enough to know that they were with each other.

“Five years.”

Dimitri looks up, watching as Felix paces in the room. Neither were going to go back to bed, neither had been to bed.

“Do you wonder… if it would have been different?”

Felix gives Dimitri a look, cocking an eyebrow. His face was less sharp, towards him. His tongue was as sharp as ever, directed at the constant flow of lords and ladies who demanded time and squabled like a flock of chickens.

But, here, it had lost most of its edge. Felix was a softer, quieter man in his time there. In the privacy of their shared space.

He was a rock weathered by stone, but still a rock all the same.

“Dimitri.”

Dimitri turns, watching as Felix sits on the bed, born weary from the ride.

“You still haven’t answered my question.”

“In what world would the ash fall differently?” Felix asks, tilting his gaze. Ever a cat in the presence of them.

“One where peace reigned. One where…” Dimitri falters, closing his eyes. Unstated between them, the missing presences that they all know. He could name each of those at the monastery that no longer walked the halls of the living.

Just ghosts, to follow the living until the end.

“You’re thinking about it again.”

Dimitri turns his gaze to Felix, watching the line of his mouth draw ever downwards. Creeping into a frown. He takes a step towards the bed, each step feeling heavier than the last.

“Five years.”

Dimitri gives the statement, closing his eyes and letting out a breath. Even now, his shoulder twinges in pain, reminding him of what had been. Of what could never be.

He’s standing in front of Felix, reaching out a hand and cupping the other man’s cheek, his thumb gliding over the skin.

Even through battle, Felix had kept his face in tact. His eyes are bright, his face tilted upwards as Dimitri moved.

The silence of the bedroom weighed heavily. In another room, Dimitri knew his wife slept. A marriage that included everything. A woman who understood the nights that Dimitri would retreat to his own room, alone and needing the quiet.

Needing the solitude for the the grief that bore him down and drove him to his knees.

“Dimitri.”

The name draws him back to the world around him and he looks at Felix, pulling his hand away. Felix reaches up, taking his hand and entwining their fingers.

“How is Annette?”

“She is well, asleep at the moment.”

Felix nods and they stare at each other once more. The silence shifts from comfortable to uncomfortable back to comfortable, each man taking the time to gather himself.

“Will Sylvain be here today?”

Felix grimaces but nods, reaching up a hand and brushing hair out of Dimitri’s face. “He’ll be here in the morning. Later in the morning.”

“And your decision for being here so soon?”

Felix let out a huff of breath, watching it pool in the air. “Call it a hunch. Have you been sleeping much?”

“The reports keep coming in. There’s been much to do and not enough time, I fear.”

“To bring an empire, alliance, and kingdom together will take time.”

“As you are often fond of saying.” Dimitri’s face pulls into a smile, his eyes still distant.

Felix shifted. “What is keeping you up tonight?”

He was fond of finding the hard edges, of wearing them down until they were smooth and at ease once more. It was never a certain thing, what state the king would be in when he returned, but their relationship over the years had grown stronger, for all that they had been through.

“We have come far, from the time we were at war with one another.”

Dimitri fixes a stare on Felix, his mouth a thin line. The words were not lost on Felix, the meaning clear. This was about them, each moment turning longer as he studied Dimitri.

“You have done well.”

Dimitri almost pulls away at those words, his one eye boring into Felix’s face. The topic shifts around them again, returning it to a place he felt safer, a place that wouldn’t end with harsh words trapped between them.

“But soon, the lords and ladies will be lining the pathways, prancing about as if everything they did helped us, five years ago.”

“There are those that did help.”

Sharp with a gaze boring into Dimitri. A silence that would need a sword to cut through it. Dimitri’s gaze shifted, turning to look at the room around him. He pulled further away from Felix, carefully treading the water between them.

“You know who I speak of.”

Felix let out a hum from the back of his throat. “Those that pretend they helped the kingdom, those that were part of the empire that still snap at the restricting chains placed around them. Those are the lords and ladies who will line the halls, bow and scrape. They will cast glances at you for who you married, and who you keep by your side.”

Dimitri’s gaze snapped back to Felix, his mouth forming into a frown. “Who I married should have no consequence-”

Felix held up his hand, shaking his head. “It should not, but those that were part of the Alliance and those that were vying for the Empire always believe they have the right of it. What matters now is that we are here.”

Dimitri gives a nod, his gaze distant before he shakes himself. “Felix…”

He stands, brushing his hands off on his pants. “I apologize for interrupting you in your chambers. I had only hoped…”

There was a sharp breath before Dimitri’s hands were cupping Felix’s face, his mouth pressing down against the other’s. Felix closed his eyes, reaching a hand up and curling it into Dimitri’s hair.

Through the years, they knew lost. He understood Dimitri in a way he never thought possible. Now, he holds the man between his arms, returning the kiss.

They would die. One day.

But they would leave behind much more than they bargained for.

If only they could remember to hold on.


End file.
